Sylvia PlathBiography

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Created by Riley Stremick

BiographySylvia Plath-Inspiration Found Through Devastation

“Best known for The Bell Jar, poet and novelist Sylvia Plath explored the themes of death, self, and nature in words that expressed her uncertain attitude toward the universe” (“Sylvia Plath Biography”).

The quote above was stated in the article “Sylvia Plath Article” and best describes Sylvia Plath’s works. On October 27, 1932, Plath was born in Boston, Massachusetts to Otto and Aurelia Plath. She appeared to be a socially well-adjusted child. She excelled in school and got straight A’s. She lived in Winthrop, Massachusetts until 1942. Then her family moved to Wellesley, Massachusetts. Although Plath came off as having a nearly perfect life, she encountered numerous life changing events that contributed greatly to her writing (“Sylvia Plath Biography”). Plath’s forever depressed life began when she was eight years old at the death of her father. Her father’s death led to the strong, conflicting emotions of love, hate, anger and grief. The beginning of WWII also started during this time darkening the mood of the nation. Plath developed insomnia, periodic bouts of depression and thoughts of suicide. She would sometimes go three weeks without sleeping. With all of Plath’s hard work and persistence, she still faced rejection. Time after time of having her writings rejected caused major stress in Plath’s life. She often became very ill. Plath attempted suicide at the age of 20 by taking 40 sleeping pills and locking herself in a crawl space under her porch for two days until she was found. A few years later, Plath encountered a loss of a serious relationship bringing back the memories and pain from the loss of her father.

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She later got involved in a relationship with a man much older than herself. She claimed he had raped her. This was just the beginning of Plath’s interest in abusive men. She moved to London shortly after this incident. When Plath finally married, the marriage turned out to be an abusive one. Her husband and father of their two children, Ted Hughes, had also been having an affair. Along with the bad relationships, the weather also seemed to have a huge impact on Plath’s depression. The winter of 1963 in London was the worst they had seen in a while, adding tremendously to Plath’s depression. On February 11, 1963, Plath successfully took her life. She sealed herself in her kitchen, knelt in front of her oven and turned the gas on. Six months before this tragedy, Plath wrote, “out cast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthy world. Into a nest of lovers’ beds, baby cribs, metal tables, all solid commerce of life in this earth, and feel apart, enclosed in a wall of glass” (“Sylvia Plath”). Plath’s life wasn’t all sickness and depression, though. She had successes and great achievements in her life as well. It was almost as if she was two different people.

Plath started writing at a young age, completing hundreds of writings before she was even out of high school. She was a very smart and successful woman. Plath wrote her first poem at the age of five. Her first poem was printed in the children’s section of the Boston Herald at the age of eight. This was the same year that her father’s death occurred which ultimately started Plath’s writing. In junior high she continued to write and had poems published in her school newspaper. In high school she enrolled in an English class that challenged her abilities in some of the best ways. In 1949 she published “A Reasonable Life in a Mad World” in The Atlantic Monthly. Plath received good grades, earned recognition and publication as a writer, artist and.

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editor by the time she finished high school. During her senior year she had her story, “And Summer Will Not Come Again”, published in a Seventeen magazine. She also saw her first national publication of her poem “Bitter Strawberries” in The Christian Science Monitor. During Plath’s life she enrolled in Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts and Harvard to which she was awarded a $1,200 scholarship. In London, Plath attended college in Cambridge. One of Plath’s biggest influences towards her writing was Olive Higgins Prouty, her sponsor at Smith who had also helped financially and emotionally after Plath’s attempted suicide. It was after this encounter that Plath began to write again. She won many poetry prizes and continued getting excellent grades. Following this, she had “Go Get the Goodly Squab” published in Harper’s and her “Parallax” earned an honorable mention in Mademoiselle’s “Dylan Thomas Poetry Contest.” She also tied for first place in the Glascock Poetry Contest along with other poetry prizes. She graduated Oxford and Cambridge Universities in England with an abundance of honors, awards, and other prizes and numbers publications. Her first book of poems published was called The Colossus and Other Poems. Her most well-known book is called The Bell Jar. The Bell Jar is Plath’s story of her attempted suicide. Over the years Plath published hundreds of poems up until her death. In 1965, two years after Plath’s death, Ariel and Other Poems was published. In 1981 “Collected Poems” by Sylvia Plath was released; in 1982 it was awarded the Pulitzer Prize (“Sylvia Plath”). Even though Plath had her struggles throughout her life, she also turned out to be a great and well known poet.

Plath’s poetry is best described by the statement, “where there is tragedy, there is art.” She used many different styles of writing. Her earlier poems were created more slowly and with greater care. The more she created the faster and less thought out her poetry was. Her approach to rhythm and meter in her poems were her own. Her first poems had a stanza that was thought of as a “finger-count”. That evolved into more of

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an “ear-count” as she continued with her writings. The styling that has led to the continuance of her art and relevancy to society is through the many factors and techniques that are common throughout her works. With her unique uses of rhythm and meter in her poetry and prose, her prevailing themes of feminist criticism and technique of “doubling” are a part of her unique approach to characterization. Her works are so unique because she uses her own voice in her poetry. She also used a variety of stanzas in her poems. Sometimes they would be three lines, and other times they would be fourteen or fifteen lines. Many people admire her use of doubling. She would include lines such as “unmisted by love or dislike”, “she comes and goes” and “I am not cruel, only truthful” (Analyzing Sylvia Plath’s Writing Style Through Her Poem, Mirror”). Plath is notable for her hundreds of poems and especially for her book The Bell Jar. She brought about a new style of writing. She wrote about real things, real feelings; something people were afraid to admit to. She often wrote when she was furious and steaming. Her emotions would be running wild when she would write. A line from The Jar Bell shows the great contrast in Plath’s emotions describing her and her writings perfectly, “If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one time, then I’m neurotic as hell. I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and other for the rest of my days” (“Sylvia Plath”).

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The ApplicantDaddyMedusaThe JailerLesbosStopped DeadFever 103LyonnesseAmnesiacCutBy CandlelightThe TourArielPoppies In OctoberNick and the CandlestickPurdahLazy Lazarus

The CouriersGetting ThereThe Night DancesGulliverThalidomideLetter in NovemberDeath & Co.YearsFearfulMary’s SongWinter TreesBrasiliaChildless WomanEavesdropperSheep and FogTotemChild

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the slime of all my yesterdaysrots in the hollow of my skull and if my stomach would contractbecause of some explicable phenomenonsuch as pregnancy or constipation I would not remember you or that because of sleepinfrequent as a moon of greencheesethat because of foodnourishing as violet leavesthat because of these and in a few fatal yards of grassin a few spaces of sky and treetops a future was lost yesterdayas easily and irretrievablyas a tennis ball at twilight

April 18 by Sylvia PlathBiography

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CinderellaThe prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fanOf silver as the rondo slows; now reelsBegin on tilted violins to span The whole revolving tall glass palace hallWhere guests slide gliding into light like wine;Rose candles flicker on the lilac wallReflecting in a million flagons' shine, And glided couples all in whirling tranceFollow holiday revel begun long since,Until near twelve the strange girl all at onceGuilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk She hears the caustic ticking of the clock.

Sample PoemsPlath’s poem, “Cinderella”, is written how every little girl views Cinderella or any fairy tale for that matter. Plath uses an abundance of descriptions allowing the reader to fully visualize the images. I chose this poem because Cinderella is my favorite Disney movie. I loved the movie and I feel as though Plath did an outstanding job at capturing its full effects.

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Sylvia Plath’s elegy, “April 18”, pinpoints one of her most tragic life events while using beautiful imagery. Plath endured a traumatizing event in the beginning of her adult years. She miscarried. It is thought that her poem reflects upon this painful time. The first lines of her poem “the slime of all my yesterdays\ rots in the hollow of my skull” draw the reader in right away and paint an eerie picture for oneself. The imagery recreates Plath’s experience very vividly. These lines impact the poem greatly. They draw in one’s attention and make one wonder what is to come. Plath doesn’t come out and say that her poem is about her miscarriage. Although, through her next lines “and if my stomach would contract\ because of some explicable phenomenon\ such as pregnancy or constipation\ I would not remember you” hint towards her miscarriage and it can be interpreted that ‘you’ is referring to the baby. It is believed that she then contemplates what it is that she may have done wrong to cause the loss of her child. It is explained through the lines “or that because of sleep\ infrequent as a moon of greencheese\ that because of food\ nourishing as violet leaves\that because of these” that Plath wonders if her lack of sleep or nourishment has been the reason for her miscarriage. They allow the reader to get a mental image through similes. Plath’s last lines, again, use similes to help with imagery. When she says “a future was lost yesterday\ as easily and irretrievably\ as a tennis ball at twilight” comparing the loss if her baby’s life to losing a tennis ball at twilight it helps readers get a better sense of what Plath was feeling. Not every person who reads her poem will have gone through a miscarriage, but may people have lost a ball during the evening while playing outside. The future Plath talks about is of her baby whom will never get a chance at life. She also says that the miscarriage happened without a huge accident. It happened at the snap of a finger and there is no way to get it back; just like a lost tennis ball at twilight. Plath chose these descriptive elements to help readers understand as best they can without having to have gone through this tragedy. She presents catharsis to her readers through this writing. “April 18” is a beautifully written poem allowing Plath to express her feelings and misfortunes through imagery and similes allowing readers to feel her pain and offer a little healing to herself.

AnalysisBiography

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I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. What ever you see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful--- The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

Mirror

An extraordinary use of personification is portrayed through Plath’s poem, “Mirror”. I love the way she makes the mirror seem life-like. Plath gives the mirror human thoughts and feelings. The poem starts out describing its features and goes on to show what the mirror sees. The mirror shows more than just the physical features of the ones who come to it. It sees many things others do not, but is silenced through it all. I chose this poem because I believe it can be read into very deeply. There is much more meaning behind this marvelous poem.

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Inspired PoemsYou do not do, you do not doAny more, black shoeIn which I have lived like a footFor thirty years, poor and white,Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you.You died before I had time---Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,Ghastly statue with one gray toeBig as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish AtlanticWhere it pours bean green over blueIn the waters off the beautiful Nauset.I used to pray to recover you.Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish townScraped flat by the rollerOf wars, wars, wars.But the name of the town is common.My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two.So I never could tell where youPut your foot, your root, I never could talk to you.The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare.Ich, ich, ich, ich,I could hardly speak.I thought every German was you.And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew.A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.I began to talk like a Jew.I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true.With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luckAnd my Taroc pack and my Taroc packI may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been sacred of you,With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.And your neat mustacheAnd your Aryan eye, bright blue.Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You---- Not God but a swastikaSo black no sky could squeak through.Every woman adores a Fascist,The boot in the face, the bruteBrute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy,In the picture I have of you,A cleft in your chin instead of your footBut no less a devil for that, no notAny less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two.I was ten when they buried you.At twenty I tried to dieAnd get back, back, back to you.I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack,And they stuck me together with glue.And then I knew what to do.I made a model of you,A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw.And I said I do, I do.So daddy, I'm finally through.The black telephone's off at the root,The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two---The vampire who said he was youAnd drank my blood for a year,Seven years, if you want to know.Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heartAnd the villagers never liked you.They are dancing and stamping on you.They always knew it was you.Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

Daddy by Sylvia PlathBiography

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Inspired PoemsInspired by Daddy by Sylvia Plath

A commitment was made the day you said “I do”Have you forgotten or are you confused?Upon this day your unlawful ways beganYou were meant to be the only man to never hurt meAnd now confusion has over taken meI’m uncertainly certainDragged down by emotionBut stuck feeling nothingThe nothing that I feel is insanely surrealThese thoughts run deepReleasing monsters insideThe evidence is inevitableForced inside this subtle body,I’m trying to keep my mind from rottingYou’ve played with my heart, Nearly tore it apart.Supposed to be my hero,And teach me all I know.Walk a little straighter, daddyI already know how to fall.

Lessen the affliction; try to stand straight and tall.I’ll assist you at every tumble.The day that lingered behind us has finally comeYour abandonment has finally set us freeBattered and torn over and overPromises spat bringing back hopeFinally you’ve vanished; I’m living freeEscaped from your manipulating powerYou’ve come to be lost and brokenLooking for the smallest token of our loveA commitment was made the day you said “I do”But you’ve forgotten and are confusedMy only words to you:Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

Walk a Little Straighter by Riley StremickBiography

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Inspired PoemsAll right, let's say you could take a skull and break itThe way you'd crack a clock; you'd crush the boneBetween steel palms of inclination, take it,Observing the wreck of metal and rare stone.

This was a woman : her loves and stratagemsBetrayed in mute geometry of brokenCogs and disks, inane mechanic whims,And idle coils of jargon yet unspoken.

Not man nor demigod could put togetherThe scraps of rusted reverie, the wheelsOf notched tin platitudes concerning weather,Perfume, politics, and fixed ideals.

The idiot bird leaps up and drunken leansTo chirp the hour in lunatic thirteens.

A Sonnet: To Eva By Sylvia PlathBiography

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Inspired PoemsInspired by A Sonnet: To Eva by Sylvia Plath

All right, there’s a message I’ve got to get throughThis won’t take much time, I promise.Life isn’t long enough for you to stay blue.Just listen closely; I’ll help make your life bliss.

Those suffocating days of uneasy depression,They really aren’t worth itIt’s time for the load to lessenA seemingly incurable disease, it’s time to cure it.

Life is often twisted and painfulOr that is how many blinded seeBut if your view is of a glass half fullThen I’m sure success and happiness is where you’ll be

My only word of advice is to keep that smile plastered on your faceLife is just a silly game trying to knock you out of place

Life’s Bliss by Riley StremickBiography

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Original PoemsUnquestionable

To sabotage something like this; unthinkableTo say something like that; unspeakableTo believe something like this; unreasonableTo dream something like that; unreachableTo change something like this; unseeableTo encounter something like that; unbelievable You thought it, what were you dreaming?You said it, what were you thinking?I believed it, what was is thinking?I dreamt it, what was I seeing?Just a sabotaged dream,A lie I shouldn’t believeFor I am weak, I am left unstableToppled over, unable.

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Original PoemsFallin’ tears, broken dreams.Saddness, an incurable disease.When all I know is how to fallI can’t help but to feel so smallBeating myself up day after daySlowly running out of words to sayGradually letting goTime going so slowWith disappointment being a word I’ve come to know so wellAnd so much to say with no one to tellI can’t help but down in my tearsThat release pain held in for yearsUnfortunately this is the story of my lifeI wish I could rewrite it overnight.My dreams would come trueMy only love would be youMy smile would never disappearThe meaning of family would be clearToo bad life can‘t be as simple as these rhymes. Promises will get broken many timesThe only thing I can do is quit believingThe truth can be very deceivingLeaving me filled with fears.. and fallen tears.

Story of my LifeBiography

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Original PoemsI’m done getting beat up by youNow that’s what the memories do.I’ve finally come to find peace insideI’m really glad I triedIt has taught me a bunchMy heart has never felt so muchI no longer feel hurt, sadness or painBut don’t worry, you’ll stay with me like an awful stainThere’s so much I could sayIt keeps piling up day after dayI’ll keep it to myself thoughDon’t fret you’ll never have to knowI know how much you hated hearing itHow often I told you I kind of regretI’m sure a day won’t go by when I’m not reminded of youSome days I’m sure it will hit me like a bad fluBut that’s when I just gotta remind myself this was meant to beIf it wasn’t you’d still be with meWe walk different pathsJust this time not hand in handSoon we’ll be on different roadsI’m sure one they they’ll cross, but only God really knowsI hope that day, years in the futureWe can be friends and not feel any

tortureI don’t know what will happenIt’ll hit us like an unwanted fashionFor now, I’ll think of you from time to timeAnd maybe even wish I had you by my sideSome days I will break downDo nothing but sit aroundOnly because our pastHas some ability of keeping me backI’ll go through old thingsAnd reminisce in the thoughts and feelings they bringThen there will be days I’m perfectly fineI won’t feel like I’m stuck back in timeI’ll keep my head up and throw on my smileThe one that had vanished for a whileIt’ll be part of my normal routineThat has come to be worry freeAnd this time when I hear our songIt won’t quite feel so wrongI’ll think only of the goodAnd forget everything I never understoodBecause today the memories aren’t

going to hurt meThey’ll find a way to leave me happy. I’m still so very confused.My heart is still very much bruisedI’d give anything for the love of my life to come backBut he’s not real so I’ll forget about thatWho needs love anyway?Feel no love and feel no painIt’s such a sad thing to sayBut a fact of life either wayUntil one day all is knownThat’s a day tremendous love will be shownSo today marks my very first stepIt’ll lead me in a direction of no regretI’ll walk the path blinded and that’s okayMy life is about taking chances that lead me in such a wondrous wayAfter all taking chances is what got me here today.

MemoriesBiography

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There is so much meaning behind every wordI think my hearts about to burstForever may be just a sound,A sound my whole world is based around.A time we thought so meaninglessBrought about all our piecesTo live for a reason more than meLeaves me baffled beyond beliefYet still I’d have it no other wayBecause our love is forever and a daySeeing life through another eyesBrings about a paradiseA million wonders we’re left to faceBut forever will see us through and take its place

Forever

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So much love in this heart of mineTrying to find a way to pass this timeMy mind is stuck on the nightMy heart was sent on a flightTo find the strength to be okayKnowing love was just sent awayI’m stuck inside this subtle bodyTrying to keep my mind from rottingHere I sit, my mind gone numbWondering how I am so dumbFind a way to land from this unsteadying soaringMy heart is enduringNo emotion to showExcept this anxious anecdote

Flight

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Original PoemsIs it that I can’t get enough of the pain?Or that your name is forever engraved in my brain?That everywhere I go, you’re thereAnd I can’t help but give a blank stare.All I want is my heart back,Is that too much to ask?I can’t seem to gather the words, I’m at a loss.Please set me free with a gentle toss.Maybe I’ll find someone strong enough to hold all my love;Someone who was sent from aboveWe’ll share forever without any trials or despair.You may say that’s what makes us stronger, but to me it’s just not fair.I can’t do it much longer.If only I was stronger.All I did was love you, as I always will.Not man enough to handle my love that you feel?Does it scare you to deathEvery time I take your breath?Do you know what you have when you have it?You’ve become my bad habitMaybe love is just a gameA game to make me feel some pain

Just a jokeHandin’ out a few laughs only to make me chokeThere’s really no one to blame but meMy foolish mind led me on this journeyI tried to just believeBut what I’ve come to seeI believe in something too good to be trueAnd all it’s done is left me blueThe passing of all this timeHas left me nothing but behindI wish I could rewind my heart,Go back to the very startSave me this confusionThat’s left my heart full of bruisesFilled with painForever a stainWords just keep flowing from my headStopping me from saying all the things that should have been saidIs it too late? What’s at stake?Is it even worth it though?My eyes are about to overflowWith no one to wipe my tearsI might as well just hide my fears.It will forever haunt me, never leave me,Always betray me, keep me from being free.Captured by your nasty liesYou’d think I’d only despise

So much on my mind,Now has got to be the timeIf it’s not, I’m going to breakI think it’s too lateIt’s absolutely never endingMy heart just keeps spendingNow it’s brokeI’m ready to choke.You must not have a heartBecause you never loved me from the startI’m under attackThere’s no going backHappily ever after?More like a devastating disasterYour beautiful blue eyes once so caring and warmNow you do nothing but cause me harmWhere’d you go?What happened to all the love you used to show?I’m going crazy, can’t you see?We were supposed to love perfectlyI guess we’ll learn from all of thisLet me go with just one kissGoing our separate ways is probably bestJust know my love for you will never rest.

Can I Have My Heart Back?Biography

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Original PoemsTonight, all I wanna do is writeTake away everything in sightNumb my feelingsMake pain not so appealingWho knew an empty feeling could fill this much spaceMaking me suffocateThe nothing that I feelIs insanely surrealLike I’m not really hearJust drowning in my fearBarely holding onCutting my heart with this songJust one more thing to make me feel the stingWounds so deepThat even when I sleepMy dreamsFilled with your face screamsReminding me of everything I tried hard to forgetEach day slowly drags on, I try to make it bestNothing seems to workI just keep getting hurtI wish there was an easy solutionOr for when I fall, simply a cushionBecause I’m fallingWith no one to catch me, I’m stallingAvoiding everything I’m afraid to admitSince I faced everything, I gave in to commitNow look at what’s leftYou took part in a theftStealing my life away one heart beat at a timeAnd now, I simply feel like I’m dying

All I Wanna Do Is WriteBiography

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Bibliographyhttp://www.notablebiographies.com/Pe-Pu/Plath-Sylvia.htmlhttp://www.neuroticpoets.com/plath/http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/685243/analyzing_sylvia_plaths_writing_style.htmlhttp://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/daddy.htmlhttp://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/toeva.htmlhttp://www.stanford.edu/class/engl187/docs/plathpoem.htmlhttp://johnshaplin.blogspot.com/2010/11/bell-jar-by-sylvia-plath.htmlhttp://writebethwrite.blogspot.com/2010/11/cinquain-poem-graveyard.htmlhttp://findandspill.wordpress.com/2009/01/page/6/http://wobblesbeagle.blogspot.com/http://money.cnn.com/galleries/2008/pf/0810/gallery.pros_rate2009.moneymag/http://www.scenicreflections.com/media/382598/Sunset_and_Woods_Wallpaper/http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/18.htmlhttp://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/daddy.htmlhttp://www.istockphoto.com/stock-photo-5278320-notebook-and-pencil.php http://downeyubf.com/?p=1451 http://singleinfertilefemale.blogspot.com/2011/01/pieces-of-puzzle.html http://freelancefolder.com/open-thread-if-you-could-ask-one-question/ http://lookingglassfriends.com/Cast.aspx https://morishnuts.worldsecuresystems.com/_blog/Morish_Nuts http://scienceblogs.com/startswithabang/2010/01/a_moon-stravaganza.php http://kimbofo.typepad.com/readingmatters/2009/08/the-bell-jar-by-sylvia-plath.html http://www.sheilaomalley.com/?p=9664

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